


In My Heart Shall Burn

by what_the_butler_saw



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternative In Your Heart Shall Burn, Angst, Bandages, Corypheus - Freeform, Cullen feels bad, Cullen feels guilty, Dragon Age Headcanons, Dragon Age Quest: In Your Heart Shall Burn, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Guilt, Haven (Dragon Age), Headcanon, Iron Bull hardly features at all, Lavellan doens't know the words to Dawn Will Come, Niether does Solas, Nor Josephine but she hums instead, Snow, Sweet, Varric is understanding, retelling of main story event, someone gets a smooch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_the_butler_saw/pseuds/what_the_butler_saw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cullen has angst, Lavellan saves the day and Josephine doesn't know the words to Dawn Will Come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Heart Shall Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative In Your Heart Shall Burn fic, based closely on storyline with lots of angst and bandages.  
> 'Fluffy little fic i enjoyed writing, hope you enjoy reading :)  
> Comments very welcome :)  
> edited to make it prettier O.o (now includes italics wooh!)

Officially, the worst day of his life was the day Corypheus attacked Haven. 

He’d found Ellerie at the inner palisades getting angry at a group of archers. ‘Get down low,’ she was saying. ‘Put yourself up there you’re a target, get down where they can’t see you and you can pick them off.’ 

‘Commander?’ the lead archer had asked as he’d come up to join them. 

‘Lavellan has been fighting humans all her life,’ he growled. ‘I suggest you listen to her.’ 

The trebuchet had proved invaluable, and she had fought her way to it, covered by the now concealed archers, with Pavus, Cassandra and Blackwall, as she aligned it. He’d kept control of the recruits, some new and untested, moving them around the compound to where they were needed, always with an eye to where she was, whether she needed more help. 

And then the damned dragon had shown up. 

They had no solutions. They were only able to choose they manner in which they were slaughtered. Roderick had been their life line. And she had stepped up, offered herself as bait, the mark on her hand the reason they were dying at all. 

His gut had churned as he’d faced her at the end. ‘And what of your safety?’ he asked, knowing, _knowing_ the answer. 

‘Can you get them out Commander?’ she replied, looking him directly in the eye. 

He nodded once. ‘Let that thing hear you,’ he said softly, hoping his feelings, his concern and his need for her to make it through this showed in his eyes. 

She nodded, and quickly pressed her mouth to his, and then she was gone. 

After that things had got a bit hazy. There were people everywhere, milling, Roderick bleeding, weak and mumbling, supported by the strange boy, Cole. They found the path out of Haven, Rylen taking the lead, he and Cassandra bringing up the rear. Leliana worked her people, keeping the frightened villagers moving, and they had slowly emerged from the tunnel into the swirling blizzard in the valley above Haven. 

A roar and beat of heavy wings sounded briefly overhead, but Lavellan had been right. Corypheus wanted her. She was the bait and the weapon. He groaned softly, unable to contain his frustration at not being able to help her, but they had been caught on the back foot. 

He cursed himself, Leliana’s spy network, Cassandra for bringing him here, but he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t be anywhere else. 

Cassandra grasped his shoulder briefly, in understanding. ‘We should clear the end of the valley before we stop,’ she said. 

‘Then we can set the flare.’ 

‘I am as eager as you. She is my friend, and I brought her to this.’ Their eyes met. ‘She will make it, Cullen,’ she said. 

Cullen sent a messenger to Rylen at the head of the column of people. The neck of the valley narrowed and they passed through, the land rising at the foot of the pass that crossed the central mountains of the Frostbacks. 

Once the last few were through Cassandra set the flare and they watched it arc high into the sky. Within a few moments they heard the rumble of an avalanche, the sound reverberating through the rock they stood on. Lavellan had successfully buried Haven and with luck the dragon and its master. A brief cheer rose. 

But to Cullen and Cassandra standing in the fading light and dying rumbles of rock it was a sound that perhaps signified something much more profound. 

‘We must keep moving,’ Cassandra said finally. 

Cullen nodded. 

They camped as it grew dark. The sun had slid behind the mountains several hours before. People lit fires, set up makeshift tents. The wounded were tended to, and Cullen prowled, until he finally faced the Seeker. ‘I’m going back to look for her,’ he said. 

‘Then –‘ 

‘I don’t _care_ if it’s unlikely she made it. She may –‘ 

‘I am coming with you, you stubborn man. You do not own the monopoly on feelings for the Herald.’ 

He nodded once. ‘Thank you,’ he said gruffly. He found Rylen, and Cassandra went looking for Leliana. When they were ready to set off they had a group of twenty of them all ready to help search, with torches, blankets and skins of hot drinks. Leliana’s scouts were fast footed but the snow was falling hard. Cullen and Cassandra waded through the fallen snow grimly, Dorian struggling in their wake. He was unusually quiet, they all were. 

They walked for what seemed like hours but in reality the covered torches had burned very little. Perhaps an hour’s walking. They were back at the neck of the valley, where they had released the flare. In his mind Cullen had wondered if she’d be here, perhaps having lit a small fire, and they’d find her resting, wrapped in her Stone Bear coat, a smile on her face as she spotted them. 

Only fresh snow, more falling fast, and no tracks, no signifier that she’d made it here. 

They carried on, past their last campfire, the ashes cool. 

And then Cullen looked up. Something, something had caught his eye in the swirling snow. A flash of sickly green. Again there, between gusts of blinding white. A dark shadow, a figure, stumbling, a flare of green again. 

‘She’s here,’ he roared and started to run. Too late to catch her, but he pulled her up into his arms as he reached her, her slender frame light as he swept her up. 

The mark was guttering on her hand. Cassandra came up behind him. 

‘Is she alright?’ she asked but Cullen ignored her for the moment. 

‘Dorian,’ Cullen called. ‘Here, can you do anything for her?’ 

In response Dorian dropped a healing spell over her, the tang of magic settling around them. 

‘Can’t you warm her up?’ Cullen growled. 

‘Yes if I set fire to her,’ Dorian replied pithily. 

Cullen had taken his armour off earlier, needing furs rather than metal and now he pulled his outer coat around her, feeling the bite of cold air. Dorian helped, tucking it around her, but Lavellan’s breathing was shallow, and she mumbled something, drifting in and out of consciousness, snowflakes settling on her face and hair. 

‘Keep her awake, if you can,’ Dorian said. ‘Here, get this down her.’ He helped her drink, while Cullen held her, and Ellerie drank, and coughed before her head slumped on her chest. 

‘Back to camp as quickly as possible,’ Cassandra said, wrapping a couple of blankets around the Herald where Cullen’s coat didn’t reach. ‘We can’t have you freezing to death too,’ she muttered, throwing another blanket around his shoulders. ‘Are you going to be alright carrying her?’ 

‘She’s a light as a bird,’ he said. As light as a sparrow. He would have lied if it wasn’t true. He was going to carry her back because he didn’t trust anyone else to. He wanted the burden. 

How cold her body was alarmed him. That she’s struggled so far was incredible. There were cuts on her face, and she’d lost her right glove. She rarely wore the left glove, the mark made the skin too sensitive she’d told him once. He dreaded to think what other wounds she carried. 

Cassandra walked beside him, her hand on his arm, guiding, helping, her other holding a torch. Progress was slow. They were all tired, having walked so far, to then retrace their steps in deeper snow was exhausting, but nothing was going to stop him getting her to the relative safety of the camp. 

It got to the point that putting one foot in front of the other was all he knew. The whirling snow was all he’d ever experienced. The welcome weight of Lavellan in his arms was the only thing he was sure of. That, and Cassandra’s hand on his arm, and the soft bobbing light of the torches. 

***** 

‘Eat something,’ Cassandra said, handing him a bowl of stew. ‘You’re no good to her or the Inquisition if you don’t take care of yourself.’ 

‘This shouldn’t have happened,’ he said. 

‘We weren’t to know.’ She sat beside him, near the tent where Lavellan lay, tended to by the medic, Dorian and Solas. Varric leaned on the pole of the makeshift tent watching them keeping her alive. Nearby Blackwall sharpened his sword, the rhythmic sound comforting in the light from one of the several fires dotted around the area. People slept, a couple sang songs softly. A baby cried. The snow had finally stopped falling, and the stars were coming out. 

‘Corypheus took us all by surprise, that was his intention. Now eat.’ 

Cullen held the bowl a moment until the scent of the food made him realise how hungry he was. He ate in silence, Cassandra sitting with him, both lost in their thoughts. 

‘I hate to say this,’ Cassandra said, ‘but we must think to the future. What do we do now? Where shall we go?’ 

Cullen shook his head. Varric wandered over, and sat near them. ‘Seeker, I think that may be a question for the morning,’ he said in his soft rumbling voice. ‘I know you want it all fixed, but Curly looks dead on his feet, and I don’t think he’s thinking about stuff like that right now.’ 

Cassandra stiffened, and eyed the dwarf, before glancing to the tent where the Herald lay. She nodded. ‘I suppose you are right. I’m sorry.’ 

‘We’ll talk in the morning,’ Cullen said, rising to his feet. Unable to stop himself he went over to Ellerie’s bedside. Dorian stood, letting him sit beside her. 

‘She looks broken,’ he said, after a moment. Her one arm was wrapped in bandages, her face was a mass of cuts, one ear was torn, and a bruise was spreading down one side of her face. The vallaslin lay like a delicate cobweb over her skin, making the damage look even worse. The mark flared suddenly, then went quiet, the sickly green glow dying down. 

‘That keeps happening,’ said Dorian. ‘It’s as if it’s been charged up. Like it’s overloading and dumping the excess energy.’ 

‘She controls it when she’s conscious then,’ Cullen asked. He’d never seen her use it, just heard reports of how it sent streams of light into rifts and shut them down. 

‘She seems able to yes. Perhaps it is because she’s unconscious, or perhaps the meeting with Corypheus. The mark is something to do with him, after all.’ 

It flared again as they watched, the light dancing around her arm and she gasped, coming awake suddenly. ‘ _Ow, ow, ow_ ,’ she muttered, trying to shake it free. She opened her eyes, and after a moment of frowning she focused on their faces and smiled. ‘My two favourite men, what a lovely way to wake up,’ she said and promptly closed her eyes again. 

‘How are you?’ Dorian asked smoothing a hand over her hair. 

‘Ow, ow, that hurts,’ she said. 

‘Sorry. You gave us a scare –‘ 

‘Is she awake?’ Cassandra asked, pushing into the tent past the medic. 

‘Can you all leave? She needs rest, not half of Haven in here with her,’ the medic said, ineffectually flapping at them. 

Cullen just looked at Lavellan, her torn ear, her battered face, and decided he’d never seen anything quite so wonderful. 

She was alive, safe and awake. 

He mouth tugged up in a half smile. He touched her hand lightly, and she opened her eyes briefly to look at him, before closing them again, and he slipped out, past the medic, Cass, Dorian, and Varric. 

The Iron Bull caught his arm as he past him. ‘The boss ok?’ he asked. 

Cullen nodded. Bull gave his arm a pat. ‘Good, now go get some sleep before you end up in there too,’ he rumbled. 

***** 

He woke to the sounds and smells of cooking, children shouting happily, laughter, chatting. His sleep had been blissfully nightmare free, and he felt unusually refreshed. 

Lying still in the warm cocoon he’d made himself he let it wash over him, replaying things from the day before. Lavellan in his arms like a broken bird, her cold little body against him, and he took a sobering lungful of crisp morning air. 

They had friendship between them, a little of something more than that sparkled in her eyes occasionally, and it tugged at something inside him, but mooning over the woman, who was likely to up and off back to her own people when this was all over, wasn’t very productive. 

Cass looked up from her bowl of food when he emerged from the tent, blinking in the brilliant sunlight. Light sparkled off the snow, the few scrawny trees were transformed into fairy tale trees, snow sliding from their branches as happily squealing children threw sticks up to dislodge it. 

‘Here,’ Cass said, handing him a bowl. Eggs, ham, bread. ‘Eat.’ She smiled as he nodded and took the bowl. ‘I am always making you eat, it seems. We are no good to her, or the Inquisition, if we fail ourselves first.’ 

‘You’re right,’ he agreed resignedly. He sighed. ‘This feels too much like Kirkwall. And considering what she did for us all yesterday, I’m having trouble getting my head around it.’ 

‘I agree. That woman, who I had in irons as a prisoner, has become our saviour.’ She paused and seemed to be undecided whether to speak again. ‘I … haven’t spoken to Leliana or Josephine yet, I wanted your thoughts first,’ she began, and paused again. ‘I am prone to rash decisions it seems, but Maker guide me, I … I believe we may have found our Inquisitor.’ 

Cullen chewed on a mouthful of breakfast for a moment. He swallowed. The idea was both shocking, and completely obvious when he thought about it. He nodded slowly, before looking up into Cass’s eyes. Her belief in the woman radiated from her. She was born to follow, needed to have a cause, he thought and then recognised that in himself. He too needed a cause, something greater than him. Perhaps all four of them, and the close companions she’d made, all united in their need to be part of something that could change lives. 

But what of the Herald? She firmly denied the title, he knew, preferring to be called by her name, and was convinced only that she had been lucky. She had even told him it was just as likely she was the Herald of any of her Elven gods, as far as she had any beliefs in anything. 

He found that view quite challenging, like so much of her was. 

She shook his ideas and his assumptions and made him look at things differently. He’d even spent a long evening with Solas, trying to get some idea of how the elven way of life worked, and the tattoos and their beliefs. It was all still a bit hazy, but he’d come away with a slightly less confirmed view of his own faith, even prepared to admit that his belief was no more certain than any other. 

‘I wonder if she’ll accept, if you ask her,’ he said. 

‘We need a consensus first. Would you support her, follow her as the Inquisitor?’ her voice was low now, intense. 

Cullen didn’t need to consider this. ‘Without question,’ he said. 

‘As would I. Does that make us crazy I wonder?' She shook her head. 'No matter, I will talk to the others when I can.’ 

Cullen nodded and watched her as she left him. 

He took a deep breath. Lavellan as the Inquisitor. It could just work. 

***** 

Cullen made himself busy. He tried to give the impression that Lavellan was safe, therefore he was content to carry on as usual. 

In reality he sat for a whole hour, looking over some reports, watching out of the corner of his eye the comings and goings of her many companions, the advisors, Mother Giselle, and even Threnn had stopped by. 

He wanted to see her, wanted to check she was ok, but a part of him felt hugely guilty about having to leave her the day before, because they’d been caught on the back foot by Corypheus and he, as Commander of the Inquisition, hadn’t had any way to help her. 

It was one thing to say she was Corypheus’s target, and it had made sense to get everyone else out of the way, but it tore at him that he hadn’t been able to say, _this will help you, this will save you, this is the way we keep you alive too_. 

It had been a glaring tactical error on his part. 

If he hadn’t just promised Cassandra he’d follow Lavellan to the ends of the earth, he’d be tempted to give notice of resignation and leave. 

The only saving grace in all this was that he _knew_ he was prone to blaming himself. 

Try as he might he could not think of a single way they could have foreseen the attack and countered it. How exactly did you protect a village made of wood from a fire-spewing dragon? 

It just didn’t make any difference, however, to the weight of guilt that had settled on him as the morning wore on. Seeing her, he decided, would make it even more real. Best he just carried on as normal. She probably wouldn’t want to see him anyway, she had nearly died thanks to his failings. 

‘Commander, the Herald was wondering if you could spare a moment to see her?’ a dwarven runner said, bowing his head slightly. 

He looked up sharply. ‘Is she … alright?’ 

The runner looked worried. ‘Er … She just asked me to find you. She’s … well you know … bandages and things.’ 

‘Of course. Thank you.’ Cullen rose, his heart starting to beat a little faster. Was she going to ask him to resign? She had every right. He stood a moment, looking down at his papers. After a moment he put a book on them to stop them flying away, and glanced at the runner. ‘I’m coming now,’ he growled, irritation surfacing when the runner hovered indecisively, giving him a querying look. 

‘Ah, I was waiting to take a message,’ the dwarf smiled cautiously, and backed away. Cullen sighed. Another blameless soul he’d terrified. 

He walked slowly to the tent, stopping to speak to the odd person, rallying his thoughts. He tried to put himself in her head, but he wasn’t very good at things like that. 

_He_ only ever thought the worst. 

The medic glanced up as he approached. ‘And _now_ she’s seen everybody bar the cook I think,’ the woman said. ‘I’m off to see other _more needy patients_ ,’ she said pointedly to the figure lying in the dark interior of the tent, and huffed through her nose as she passed Cullen. 

He watched her go, before clenching a fist in determination and ducking into the tent. The dark fabric of the tent was keeping a lot of the light out, and he took a moment to accustom his eyes. The figure on the bed was quiet. He could see the whiteness of new bandages against her skin. 

‘Lavellan,’ he said finally. He bowed his head briefly to her. 

‘Ellerie please, Cullen. Here, sit, you’re very tall you know.’ 

‘Sorry, where …?’ 

‘There was a stool, or here,’ she shifted on the bed. ‘Sit by me, here,’ and she patted the space she’d made with her good hand. The other arm was wrapped in layers of wrappings, and lay across her stomach. The mark was a faint glow coming up between her fingers. It cast a sickly light in the small space. 

‘I should stand, I don’t want to –‘ 

‘Cullen, I’m not so fragile. I’m sure if I was going to break Corypheus picking me up by the wrist and throwing me at the trebuchet would have been sufficient,’ she said, with a slight smile sounding in her voice. 

‘ _Maker’s breath_ , Ellerie,’ Cullen said in a strained voice. He sat where she’d patted and felt not a little awkward looking down at her. 

‘I think he tore something, it twanged anyway, and now I can’t move it, but Lila assures me it’s not broken. Dorian did something to take the swelling down.’ She rested her good hand along her side, alongside his thigh, and smiled at him. ‘Corypheus is very, very tall, it turns out. Taller than you even. About ten foot I’d say. He picked me up like a rag doll, and he’s completely fused with chunks of red lyrium. They’re in his face and back. It’s horrible and creepy. And that dragon is terrifying up close.’ 

Cullen listened, letting her prattle, process it, share the information. 

‘It was only because he threw me at the trebuchet that I was able to release the load. He can’t use the mark, or the anchor, he said it’s called, because he tried to pull it out of my hand and,’ she shook her head, then winced, ‘nothing has ever hurt so much as that. This damn thing is part of me. It’s not coming out, or off, or whatever.’ She looked at him seriously. ‘This is who I am, and that’s sort of scary,’ she said and frowned. It made her look absurdly young. 

He looked at the dark bruise that had spread up the left hand side of her face, her left ear was torn, blood had dried in the whorls of her ear. Cuts criss-crossed her forehead, her cheeks. 

‘I like who you are,’ Cullen said after a moment, then instantly regretted it. He was glad it was dark in the tent. ‘I’m sorry … I didn’t –‘ 

She put her hand on his knee. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I like who you are too. When you weren’t queuing up to see me first thing this morning I _had_ wondered if you might be wrangling with your guilt that you hadn’t managed to see into the future and come up with a fool-proof plan to defeat an unknown foe, and save us all without endangering anyone, but I know you’re not that sort of a man,’ she said, a grin pulling across her face, ‘ _aaand_ I can’t smile, it hurts too much.’ 

Despite himself Cullen gave a short guilty laugh. ‘Never crossed my mind,’ he said. 

‘Except that it did, and I had to ask you to come and see me, because I wanted to see you most and you were out there blaming yourself.’ 

The silence stretched a little. 

‘ … did you just …? ‘ he started. 

She put out her hand to him, and held it there waiting, until he got the message and took her fingers in his. He curled his hand round hers, before bringing it up to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers, until she turned her hand and pressed her palm against his cheek. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. ‘I have never been so scared,’ he said softly. 

‘In the snow last night, I kept telling myself that if I could just hold out until you found me, then it would all be ok. I knew you could make it all alright. I didn’t dare think you might not be ok.’ 

‘I saw your mark. It saved you.’ 

She nodded. ‘Cassandra filled me in.’ 

‘Your poor ear,’ Cullen said after a moment. 

‘Is it bad?’ 

‘There’s a piece missing, and it’s split in a couple of places.’ 

‘No wonder it hurts more than my arm. It’s throbbing like crazy. Dorian suggested I put a couple of piercings in it to make a feature out of it.’ She chuckled, ‘I’ll look like a cat that’s been in too many scraps,’ she said with a tiny smile. ‘I am hoping, however, that some of these cuts on my face will give me some sexy scars like yours.’ 

‘Like … wait, what? This?’ he said puzzled, touching the split in his upper lip. 

‘That Ser, is a damn fine sexy scar.’ 

Cullen felt the heat rising in his cheeks. ‘Sexy how?’ 

‘It makes me look at your lips all the time,’ she said softly. 

‘Ah,’ he said. 

‘And when I look at them, I want … to kiss them.’ 

‘I … oh.’ 

Lavellan looked a little embarrassed and looked away. ‘This is where you say, _well I better kiss you then_ , or something, and kiss me,’ she said in a quiet voice. 

It took him a moment for the words to sink in. He looked at her lying there, battered and hurting, asking him to kiss her. 

He could think of nothing he would rather do. He braced his arms either side of her and bent down to her, hesitantly, aware he might hurt her or jog the bed she lay on. Her eyes flicked from his eyes to his mouth and he smiled a half smile, pausing just above her lips. 

And then slowly he touched his mouth to hers, her lips soft and yielding beneath his. He kissed her and then again, small sipping kisses, tasting her, exploring her mouth with his, feeling the shape of her lips with his, tasting her top lip, her bottom lip, pausing as she nipped his bottom lip between hers, and then the soft exploration of her tongue on his lips, and he met hers with his, deepening the kiss, their breathing becoming a littler shorter, a little more urgent. 

She gave a soft little moan, pushing up off the bed against him, and he cupped her cheek before lifting away. Her fine dark eyes followed him, her reddened lips were parted. 

‘Room for a little one?’ a cocky Tevinter voice said and they started at the sound. ‘My, my that looked fun, I’m not sure who I envy most,’ Dorian grinned as he came fully into the tent. ‘Having said that I rather think it’s a bit energetic for someone who almost died yesterday. Yes?’ 

‘Old Dalish remedy,’ said Ellerie, ‘I’m fairly sure it is, Cullen’s been talking to Solas about these things.’ 

‘Sort of thing the Dalish _would_ think,’ Dorian said, witheringly. ‘I’m curious, did it help?’ 

‘It needs … ahem … repeat, repeating, regularly, regular application, um’ Ellerie went on. ‘Perhaps –‘ Cullen stifled a grin. 

‘You sound delirious. I only came in to tell the Commander that his men are looking for him. Naturally I offered to stand in but alas, here I am.’ 

‘I should be going, then,’ Cullen said ruefully, giving Ellerie a lopsided grin. ‘Lavellan,’ he said, bowing his head, before pushing the tent flap out of the way. ‘Pavus,’ he said nodding to the mage. 

‘ ... how long’s this being going on …’ Cullen heard Dorian saying to Lavellan, and felt the blood rush to his face. About ten minutes, Cullen thought to himself wryly as he walked away, though that was perhaps not strictly true. 

There had been several times he’d caught her eye, and they’d smiled awkwardly and looked away. Then there had been that quick kiss as she’d sent him to organise the evacuation of the people of Haven. That sweet cold press of her lips after they'd sat and drunk chamomile tea in her little retreat. He shook his head. And all those questions about his vows as Templar, which at the time had rather puzzled him, until she’d smiled and he’d felt himself as light headed as if he’d been standing on the edge of a precipice. 

Though he wasn’t the only one she’d been flirty with. He knew she’d had a drunken evening in the tavern with Blackwall, and Solas only had eyes for her when they were together. 

Not that he blamed the elf. Or Blackwall, or Dorian, or any of the people he knew who looked after her as she left a room, who made room for her on benches, who regularly offered themselves in service to her. 

He rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw as he made his way to Rylen. Maybe this was how she worked. Make them all fall for her and keep them keen with a kiss here, a flirty suggestion there. 

Maybe he fallen for the oldest trick in the book. 

He wasn’t used to being with women. Templar life was pretty restrictive all round. While he’d had several partners, they hadn’t been close relationships, rather those brought on by lack of time, lack of freedom and an overriding sense of duty that lay elsewhere. The technical aspects he was fine with, it was this emotional stuff that was catching him off guard and he’d never expected to find it, or find out that someone thought he was worth it, and certainly not here, in the backwaters of Thedas, amongst people coming together to fix the world. 

Hope was one of those emotions Cullen could easily see as a demon. Like desire and anger and all those easily identifiable ones, he felt Hope should be up there with them. Apart from the rare occasion it brought joy and perseverance, it was mainly the preserve of the underdog, the hard done by, the losers, the sufferers, the ones who blindly kept going when all around them was in ruins. It was a false positive as far as he was concerned. Experience in both his postings had shown him that, so it was with great caution, and not a few misgivings that he entertained the tiniest fluttering hope that Ellerie had meant it when she’d said he was the person she’d wanted to see most. Chances are it was because he’d found her, carried her back to camp, warmed her and she was grateful. 

But there was the _smallest_ chance that the flicker of hope had a chance. 

That, however, didn’t get the paperwork done. 

***** 

‘We can’t move until she’s able to travel.’ 

‘Cassandra, we can’t just sit here till spring. She might be in that bed another week. We have hundreds of people here to care for. We can put her in a wagon. She’s sitting up now, we can lash her to a horse, or I can ride behind her,’ Cullen argued. They’d been in camp for a week. Supplies were running short, they needed to move. 

‘She is the Herald, she must be kept safe.’ 

‘I will keep her safe. And besides, staying here may not be that safe anyway. Corypheus maybe on the other side of the mountain planning his next move.’ He wasn’t entirely willing to stake his reputation on that assertion, but sitting another week before Ellerie could move unaided was madness. 

‘I agree with the Commander,’ Leliana said. ‘We can’t stay here. I have sent scouts up the valley, there are several places that are better, and with further access opportunities out of the mountains.’ 

‘Getting out of the mountains should be a priority,’ Cullen snapped. ‘We have useful people, we can send them to Redcliffe, and Denerim, spread word of the Inquisition while we look for a suitable location to base ourselves.’ 

‘If I may make a suggestion,’ Josephine said, ‘Cassandra has a point. The Herald is still weak, and while she may be able to undertake a short journey I think that anything more may delay us further down the line. Perhaps we should approach one of the large noble houses, there are several in the area, to see if we can secure some accommodation –‘ 

‘Absolutely not,’ Cullen interrupted. ‘I beg your pardon ambassador but allying to a noble in Ferelden or anywhere else, will effectively gag us, as they continue to remind us how much we owe them over the course of our existence. We do this alone, or not at all.’ 

‘Finally, something I agree with,’ Cassandra said. 

***** 

‘Do you think there’s any chance they’ll all stop shouting and let me sleep?’ Ellerie asked Mother Giselle. She lay on her bed, wrapped in her Stone Bear coat. She’d gone for a short, heavily assisted walk earlier and had retired after feeling decidedly dizzy. 

She propped herself on her good elbow and peered through the flaps of the tent. 

‘They are scared, they want the solutions that will keep us all alive. They are good people but perhaps they need a clearer perspective.’ Mother Giselle smiled gently. ‘Sometimes people are blinded by affection and the awareness of what they owe.’ 

‘They don’t owe me anything. Nobody does.’ 

‘Easy to say, when you have the strength to sway so many lives.’ 

They listened as the argument went round in circles for a few more minutes. Ellerie sighed. ‘I’ve had enough,’ she said, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Mother Giselle stepped back, watching, not offering her help. 

Ellerie let the wave of dizziness pass. She pulled her mage staff out from under the bed, and planted it firmly in front of her, before pulling herself to her feet, and swaying a moment. ‘So far, so good,’ she said to Mother Giselle. 

‘Someone needs to be the focus. Someone needs to be the voice. _Be_ their voice, Herald of Andraste.’ 

‘Well, we’ll see about that, I just want them to go and shout elsewhere,’ she muttered as she took a few shaky steps to the entrance of the tent. ‘Uh, could you hold this for me?’ she asked as she tried to manoeuvre the staff and the tent flaps with one hand. 

‘The staff or the tent?’ 

Ellerie paused a moment. ‘Ah, this is one of those times, isn’t it?’ she said levelly. She looked at her staff a moment before letting it fall back against the bed. ‘Can’t have anyone thinking I need magic to prop me up, right?’ 

‘A wise thought,’ the Reverend Mother agreed. She pulled back the flaps of the tent and let Ellerie step out before her. 

Cullen spied her first, and looked at her, mouth open, as she took her first steps unaided since Haven fell. ‘Lavellan,’ he said, making a move towards her. 

‘I just wanted …‘ she started to say but tailed off as the others turned, and then people at their tasks stopped and looked, more coming between the tents as word spread that she was finally out of bed. She squeezed Cullen’s offered hand briefly, but pushed it gently away, and he stepped back with a smile of pride and affection. 

The dizziness washed over her again but she steeled herself. This wasn’t the time to fall flat on her face in the mud. 

Balling a fist and digging her nails into her palm she took another step, and then another, trying to move as if nothing hurt, as if her bandaged arm was fine and the mark wasn’t screaming along her nerves. 

_And then_ … Ellerie wasn’t sure what happened then. 

Mother Giselle started singing softly behind her, and then someone else joined in, and then Nightingale added her delicious Orlesian voice, and Josephine hummed because she wasn’t sure of the words, and then Cullen and Blackwall, and all the people before her started singing and she didn’t know the song, or the words and she caught Solas’s gaze at the back of the group and he blinked back incomprehension, raising an eyebrow, then bending his head to her just a little. 

‘I don’t sing that as often as I should,’ someone said quietly, when the last sounds had died away. 

‘We ride,’ Ellerie said firmly, in the silence that fell after. A cheer rose around her like a blossom of sound, unfurling, becoming stronger, and in the noise and tumult she again caught Solas’s gaze, as he made his way to her. 

‘A word?’ he said. 

***** 

Solas put a hand beneath her good arm, as they walked away from the camp. 

‘Tell me that was a good decision,’ Ellerie muttered, fighting nausea from over-exertion. 

‘It was a good decision,’ said the apostate. ‘And perhaps you are asking something more. By attacking the Inquisiton, Corypheus has changed it, changed you. Remember, this is the first time for a thousand years one of our race has been held in such high esteem by humans. You must be beyond reproach.’ he added levelly. 

She looked at him a moment, meeting his gaze and then nodded her understanding. ‘At any rate we’re real now. I think he’s done that for us.’ 

‘Faith is nothing until it is tested. You have risen head and shoulders above your companions, you are truly the Herald of Andraste, whether you believe it or not and now you have spoken and they have listened. Look at them, bending to your will,’ he said, and they turned, watching as people hurried tidying, packing, working together. 

She watched the activity in the camp, feelings warring inside her; acute embarrassment that so many people were hanging on her every word, mingled with a feeling of immense pride at what they were, what they could be. 

‘What happens now?’ she asked, pausing to look up at the mountains rising before them. Icy peaks vied for the sky. ‘I’m open to suggestion.’ 

‘These mountains are the backbone of Thedas. The ancient people knew this, and they made their homes here, up among the tops of the mountains.’ Solas raised a flame in a torch, a simple spell, but magical all the same. He turned to face her. ‘Send scouts to the north, be their guide, Lavellan. There is a place that waits for a force to hold it.’ 

‘Somewhere you been? Or seen in the Fade?’ 

‘I have travelled extensively, but yes, perhaps in the Fade also. It is somewhere the Inquisition can build in safety, and grow.’ 

‘Sounds perfect, what’s it called?’ 

‘ _Tarasyl'an Te'las_ which means _the place where the sky is kept_ or, perhaps more accurately, _the place where the sky was held back_ , in ancient elvish. In the Common tongue it is called Skyhold.’ 


End file.
